


It's Alright, Right?

by WriteSmart



Category: God's Own Country (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Falling In Love, Fluff, Johnny and Gheorghe are pro soccer players, M/M, The original characters are miscellaneous teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteSmart/pseuds/WriteSmart
Summary: Johnny curses the day he listened to his father to stay and play in England instead of fucking off to sunny Spain. He could be winning leagues and smashing records instead of freezing his balls off playing for a middling team that can’t for the life of them find the gumption to win the important games.And then by chance, he meets Gheorghe, the new hot shot defender in the Premier League on a rival team, and suddenly he starts to think god maybe it will be alright.
Relationships: Gheorghe Ionescu/Johnny Saxby
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	1. With an aching in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> Quick warning for head wound and blood. Very brief scene but I wanted to let people know!

It’s raining at practice today. Pouring, heaving rain that makes Johnny curses the day he listened to his father to stay and play in England instead of fucking off to sunny Spain. He could be winning leagues and smashing records instead of freezing his balls off playing for a middling team that can’t for the life of them find the gumption to win the important games. 

-

After a full day of practice, hitting the showers is the best feeling in the world. Johnny violently rubs his blue tinged fingers under the just-too-hot spray until the blood painfully flows back into them. He’s flushed pink when he finally gets out and has to endure the quick sting of a rat tail whip from their center defender and resident jokester Davo as he hussels back to his locker to bundle up in something warm. 

“Where you running off to, Johnny?” Marcelo shouts at him just as Johnny’s finishing up dressing. 

“Just gotta get home. Da needs me to help with something around the house,” Johnny says, flustered in getting caught rushing out and quickly trying to think of a plausible reason that he would be going back to his parent’s house so quickly instead of out with the lads. 

“Leave off him Marcelo!” Tomas, their very overprotective goalie hollers out before the teasing can start, “someone is still a good kid back home!”

In the resounding jeers and sharp remarks Johnny is able to make a very stealthy get away. And look it’s not that Johnny doesn’t like his team. He loves them in fact. Even with all their bolstering and pranks and occasional inability to play football. It’s just that locker rooms have always been tough for Johnny. There’s always been that weird barrier between him and the other lads. Johnny’s too quiet. Johnny’s too shy. Johnny goes home more than he goes out with the guys. Johnny can only make up a hot girlfriend so many times before he starts to scream. 

-

Martin’s in a bad mood by the time Johnny gets home. His old aches and pains always flare up when the weather goes bad. Martin used to be the up and coming star in the football world twenty years ago. He was supposed to change the game for England, win the Premier League with his team, win the World Cup, maybe even win the fucking Champion’s League. But then one horrific tackle in the World Cup semi final game shattered his knee cap and tore both his ACL and MCL at once. Martin never played again, and instead of a shelf full of trophies, he’s got two fingers of whiskey in a glass to numb the pain. 

“‘Lo Da,” Johnny says in greeting. 

Martin just grunts, barely an acknowledgement of his only son. Sometimes Johnny just wants to scream in his face, or break something, or announce he was going to move to America and become a cheerleader just to get Martin to fucking say something. To look at him. To do fucking anything. 

Nan’s in the kitchen cooking dinner as Johnny ducks in to say hi to her too. 

“He’s in a right strop out there,” Nan says in lieu of a greeting. She always means well whenever she says anything about Martin’s stormy moods. Like acknowledging them will make Johnny and her some type of team, but all it does is make Johnny even grouchier. Of course he’s in a fucking foul mood. Of course nothing Johnny’s done will fix it. 

“How’s the day been?” Johnny asks instead of responding to the lingering statement. 

“Finished me planting for the spring just before the rain started,” Nan tells him as she bustles around the kitchen to finish dinner. Johnny absentmindedly stirs whatever is simmering on the stove. “You must have been soaked today. Didn’t take your raincoat like I warned you.”

“Was fine. No big deal,” Johnny says even though his fingers still feel like raisins from being soaked all day long. 

“Not fair they got you out in weather like this,” Nan continues, “guess it’s to do with the big game on Saturday. Maybe Martin and I will come this weekend for a little luck.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Johnny shrugs off, “no need to make any fuss over it or nothing.”

“Hmph, well how about we see how Martin’s feeling that day, alright?” Nan says placatingly before lapsing into silence as she finishes up her cooking. Johnny stays to help her. No sense in going out into the living room to suffocate in the black hole that is Martin nowadays. 

They eat quietly that night, like most nights, and then Johnny goes off to bed alone. He curls up tight and tries to force himself to fall asleep. Sometimes the silence in this house is deafening. 

-

Johnny’s starting today. He’s standing in the tunnel with the boys getting amped up, and he thinks today might actually be a good day. The sun’s peaking out for once, and he gets his hair ruffled sweetly by Tomas, and even though Martin isn’t at the game Nan’s here, and Johnny thinks that counts for something. 

Everyone has their own rituals in the tunnel before a game starts. Johnny recites the same poem every time, eyes closed, breathing controlled, a full minute to compose himself as the roar of the stadium outside the tunnel swells and crescendos. 

When Johnny opens his eyes the other team has lined up next to them. Johnny isn’t one to glare, and stare, and intimidate the other team like some of the guys do, but he always does a cursory glance at the competition before they hit the pitch. He’s heard rumors that this team has got a new defender, and he’s looking to size him up when Johnny meets rich brown eyes that make his stomach fall down to his shoes. 

Fuck. He’s got a game to play. Johnny can’t do this right. 

They’re walking now. The team’s walking out, but Johnny can’t help taking one more glance at tall, dark, and god help him handsome, as they step out onto the field. They meet eyes again. The guy’s still looking at Johnny. Could he somehow know why Johnny’s still looking at him? And then the guy smiles. Slow and purposeful and Johnny can feel the tips of his ears blush hot and red and the usual pregame butterflies beat hard and nauseating against his stomach. 

Fuck that guy. 

-

It’s a tough game. Johnny thinks he’s run 30 miles before half racing back and forth from end line to end line. He sees the guy every now and then. Apparently he’s playing on the other side. Johnny isn’t sure if he’s happy to not be distracted by him or sad that he won’t get another chance to sneak a peek at him. 

Johnny knows his name is Gheorghe. He should not be thinking that his name is Gheorghe right now. 

-

It’s still a scoreless game by half although there have been a few close calls. Johnny had put in a banger of a cross early on in the game but fucking Gheorghe had headed it out of the path of a diving David. Then just minutes later the game only stays tied by the outstretched fingertips of Tomas. 

Johnny’s legs feel like they weigh a hundred pounds when halftime rolls around. It’s almost like he’s dragging his body through molasses trying to get to the locker room. They get reamed out by their coach. Not scoring, not getting back to defend, not completing passes. Johnny has to take a few deep breaths to center himself after everything that’s happened. 

Just before they leave to get back to the game Tomas pops up next to Johnny. 

“You good today John?” He asks, always taking his captain duties so seriously. 

“I’m alright, Tomas. Just getting in my head.”

“Well next half might go better for us. They’re subbing out a defender, so you’ll have that new defender on your side now,” Tomas says offhandedly thinking he’s helping. 

“Yeah. Yeah that’ll be good,” Johnny chokes out. 

-

The second half of the game is even more intense. But maybe that’s just because every time Johnny gets the ball anywhere near the box Gheorghe is all over him. Plastered to his back while Johnny’s stuck in the corner. With his hands on Johnny’s hips during a corner kick. It’s distracting. 

At the 70th minute things go from bad to worse for Johnny. He can only helplessly stare as one of his missed hit crosses is headed out by Gheorghe right to the feet of the other team’s very talented center midfielder who is off to the races as their own two center defenders, Marcelo and Kyle, stumble trying to get back to position. Johnny books it back. He’s always been fast and now he can feel that speed burn in his lungs and pound out through his feet. He just barely catches up when he puts in the tackle. Johnny knows it’s too hard before he even makes contact. He’s been so out of his head that it’s making him sloppy and he damn near takes the guys leg off as they collide together and sprawl to the ground. 

When Johnny gets up he’s met with a hard shove from the opposing team. Someone’s screaming at him for the tackle and there’s pandemonium as the middie Johnny hits writhes on the ground. Johnny rolls his eyes. It was a hard hit but it’s a team of fucking floppers. Marcelo gets a firm arm around Johnny before he can do anything stupid, and the ref comes barging in before anything can actually escalate. 

Johnny gets a yellow. The other team gets a free kick. The guy he hit stands up totally fine. Fuck him. 

Johnny doesn’t know why his wandering eyes find Gheorghe, but they do, and they shouldn’t have. Gheorghe looks angry. Glaring a hole through Johnny’s head. Something so stupidly like disappointment curls up from Johnny’s stomach and bunches in his throat. 

They score on the free kick. Johnny wants to beat his head against a wall. But the game is still going and no matter how distracted Johnny is he has to keep playing. 

He’s glad his dad isn’t here to see this shit. 

Johnny knows as they near overtime that he has to make this game count. He’s got to make up for his mistake. He’s got to do something. 

His chance finally comes just before the 90th minute. Johnny gets the ball passed beautifully to his feet from Harry and turns hard to the goal. He can do this. He’s barreling down toward the goal when out of the corner of his eye he sees Gheorghe tearing down after him. It breaks his focus, and just for one second Johnnie slows down almost to a stop. Gheorghe clearly wasn’t expecting it though and Johnny can see his eyes widen just as he clatters into Johnny. 

Johnny hits the ground hard, his knee screaming from where it twisted awkwardly and his head throbbing from where something smacked it. He painfully turns his head to see Gheorghe on his knees, but hovering over Johnny, awkwardly clutching his head that’s bleeding. Johnny thinks someone might be saying something but all he can dumbly think is that it must’ve been Gheorghe’s head that’s making his hurt so fucking much. 

Teammates and medics are rushing over but Johnny can’t tear his eyes away from Gheorghe as the blood from his split foreheads spills past his fingers. 

And then Gheorghe worriedly asks, “are you ok?”

He has an accent. Johnny doesn’t know if he expected that. His voice is like music. Johnny definitely expected that. 

“Yeah I’m ok,” Johnny answers dumbly. His hand reaches out on its own accord to Gheorghe, “you’re bleeding,” he tells him, like Gheorghe doesn’t already know. 

“I think I will be alright,” Gheorghe tells him with that little smile he had on at the beginning of the game. “Thank you for telling me.”

Johnny blushed at that. Fuck why is he blushing. Gheorghe smiles even wider and the red spreads from Johnny’s ears into his cheeks. 

Then, suddenly, the intrusive hands of the team’s medics swarm all over Johnny and whatever little bubble outside of time and place that they were in is shattered. His teammates are all a chatter and the screams of fans hit Johnny in full force. By the time he looks back Gheorghe is already being walked off to get his head looked out and Johnny is being painfully helped to his feet, pridefully ignoring the stretcher. He’ll walk off himself, thank you very much. 

Johnny and Gheorghe both get taken out of the game for concussion protocol. Someone else takes Johnny’s free kick and misses. Bastard. 

-

Johnny gets diagnosed with a mild concussion and told to keep his knee wrapped and elevated. He’s out for three weeks but all in and all with a collision like that Johnny’s counting his lucky stars right now. 

He slips back into the locker room as everyone else is finishing getting dressed. He’s missed the post-lost talk at least and he gets some calls of sympathy from the boys as he limps over to his locker. 

Matteo, their forward and Johnny’s locker neighbor, gives him a firm pat on the back as Johnny sits down which makes Johnny’s head roll and his stomach lurch. 

“Do you know Gheorghe?” He asks as Johnny slowly reaches down to peel his socks off, trying not to twinge his knee. 

“No. Which ones that?” Johnny asks deciding to play dumb and unaffected. 

“The one cracked your thick skull Johnny! I thought you might have known him the way you two were talking and all over each other.”

Fuck. Johnny hadn’t realized anyone had noticed them. 

“I don’t know him,” Johnny grunts way too adamantly. 

“Ok, ok,” Matteo raises his hands to placate him. 

There’s a pause where Matteo just looks at Johnny stil fucking smirking. 

“Do you know him?” Johnny finally asks, unable to help himself. 

“Yes!” Matteo cries. “We played together in Italy when we were young. He’s very nice. Very good at defending.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says because he has nothing else to say to that. 

Matteo takes one more look at Johnny and laughs at a joke that Johnny doesn’t understand and gives him another slap on the back. 

“Get better soon Johnny,” he says getting up to shower. 

-

Johnny isn’t allowed to practice as he’s getting over his mild concussion. He winds up stuck in a rut puttering around the house and annoying his nan. He’s been very carefully avoiding Martin who’s been grumbling at Johnny every time they end up in the same room together. In an attempt to make Martin happy and to avoid going absolutely buck wild Johnny does end up ignoring doctor’s orders of not doing any work and tries to fix up one of the broken fences they have on the property. Johnny’s not much of a woodworker though and ends up adding insult to injury by slamming his finger trying to nail the wood together. 

He stomps back to the house after that cursing up a storm. 

“Where you going now?” Nan asks as Johnny shoves by her to his room. 

“Nowhere. Jesus!” Johnny growls and slams his bedroom door hard enough that the frame rattles. 

He flops onto the bed feeling all of 17 again and brimming with teen angst and no outlet. He’s not even sure why he’s so angry right now. Martin’s mood is nothing new. 

Johnny rolls over in a huff and grabs his phone off his charger scrolling through the group chat notifications and well wishes from teammates when he gets to a text from an unknown number that says:

Hello. Just wanted to make sure you are all right. 

Who is this?

Johnny barely has a chance to put his phone down when it buzzes again. 

It is Gheorghe. Matteo gave me your number. 

Johnny is going to have a few choice words to Matteo about giving his number out to people. Why the fuck did Gheorghe even want his number?

I’m alright. Concussion but not too bad. 

And then after another beat Johnny adds:

What about you?

They told me I have a mild concussion and I had three stitches put in. 

That sucks. 

Yes it sucks. I have found the worst part though is being aimless. 

Yeah I’ve just been at home. 

Yes. It is a little lonely no? Going from being with the team to not. We had an away game today and I am home watching it. 

Yeah it sucks. Played without me too. 

You should let me take you out for a bite to eat. As an apology for making you miss your game. 

Johnny stares at the text that’s just come in. A bite to eat? Is he insane? Wait, is this flirting? Was that flirting at the game? Fuck, he has to be straight. Johnny’s only been with one other soccer player in his life and it was fast and dirty and always a secret. It was definitely not a “let’s eat food” type of relationship that risked being seen together. Gheorghe must not mean it like that then. If Gheorghe meant it like that he’d be more worried about it, so this must be a casual friendship thing. 

God Johnny’s an idiot for thinking Gheorghe was looking at him any type of way at the game. 

As he’s dithering over what to say another text from Gheorghe comes in. 

We can go somewhere far out. Secluded you know?

Shit. Is this flirting? Johnny grinds his back teeth together and listens to nan futz around in the living room and Martin snap at her. It’s been so long since Johnny’s seen anyone. Longer since anyone asked him out to get food. Fuck it. 

Yeah sure. I guess we could. 

-

Gheorghe sends Johnny a link to a cute little restaurant and asks if he wants to meet there for lunch on Saturday. It’s Thursday when he sends it, Johnny spends all day Thursday and all day Friday worrying the inside of his mouth until it is bloody with nerves. But, Gheorghe texts him every day. Texts him right away and double texts him and texts him firsts, which calms Johnny a miniscule amount. They don’t talk about substantial things, but it is easy to talk to Gheorghe. They keep to the weather, football, movies, and music, but it’s enough to make Johnny think that they might actually have enough in common that Johnny could really like this guy.

On the day of their lunch excursion, Johnny changes four different times before he runs out of time and has to leave if he’s going to make their scheduled not-date time. Nan watches him run to the bathroom to look at himself in the full length mirror for each outfit swap with one eyebrow cocked and a whole spiel on the tip of her tongue, but Johnny must look frazzled enough that she stays quiet. She doesn’t even ask where he’s going. There’s always been this unspoken law in the house that Johnny doesn’t tell his nan when he’s meeting a guy and she doesn’t ask, but they both are aware of what's happening. 

No one ever clues Martin in. 

Even though she doesn’t say a word about his nerves nan does ask, “when will you be back?”

“Not too long. Just out with a friend.”

“A new friend?”

“Yeah I guess,” Johnny says, pulling on his jacket and taking one more glance at the mirror in the hall to fix his hair. He looks up to see his nan worrying at a fingernail, glancing quickly at the back of Martin’s chair. “I’ll be back soon,” Johnny reassures her. 

Johnny drives almost an hour out, and eventually pulls into a very quaint seaside town. The address Gheorghe sent him leads Johnny to a little restaurant overlooking craggy rock and a pier leading out into the ocean. It looks nice and expensive and hopefully nondescript. 

Gheorghe is already sitting at a table when Johnny gets in, and he immediately waves Johnny over. Johnny goes a quick scan of his surroundings but there is only one other older couple in the place eating quietly and in their own world off to a corner. 

Seeming to sense Johnny’s apprehension about being out in public, Gheorghe says, “You do not have to worry Johnny. I know the owners. They will not say that we were here.”

“That’s good,” Johnny says awkwardly. It was easier to do this over text when he could have time to think about his responses and not seem like an idiot. 

They both lapse into silence and Johnny reaches to grab a slice of bread that’s on the table just to do something. Gheorghe is still smiling at him. 

“How’ve you been?” Johnny finally asks, mouth half full with bread. 

“I have been good,” Gheorghe says, “It is nice to be in England. I have never been here before.”

“Where you from?” Johnny asks. 

“Romania. But I grew up playing soccer in Italy. Are you from here, Johnny?”

“Born and bred in these hills.”

“Do you like it here?”

Johnny can’t help but laugh at that. “I don’t know if I ever liked it here.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

Johnny fidgets nervously at that question. “We’re getting pretty deep right off the bat then, huh?”

“It is just a question,” Gheorghe says. 

“Fine. I needed to stay. For my dad.”

“He played, no?”

“Yeah. He played,” Johnny pauses and then says, “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Ok. We won’t talk about him. Let’s talk about you then.” Gheorghe leans forward with his chin in his hand, eyes soft and appraising. But for once, Johnny doesn’t feel under the spotlight with someone asking him personal questions. There’s something about Gheorghe that puts him at ease. 

The waitress comes by to take their orders at that moment, and Gheorghe even convinces Johnny to order lobster even though it’s so expensive. He saw the way Johnnie was eyeing the other couple’s buttered soaked plates though and with a laugh and a bit of magic cajoled Johnny into doing it. 

-

Over their meal the two of them keep talking. Gheorghe tells Johnny about his childhood in Romania, the sisters he left back home, and what it was like to play in Italy. Johnny repays him by telling him about his nan, about England, and about the garden they keep back home and the two sheep they own that Johnny rarely admits to loving. It is easy to talk to Gheorghe in a way that it has never been for Johnny before. He’s always had high fortress walls up to ward off anyone, but Gheorghe seems to just walk right past them. Part of it, Johnny thinks, is that he’s so desperate for Gheorghe to like him that he’s just word vomiting stories Gheorghe might enjoy. The other part of it though is that Gheorghe radiates charm and kindness, and absolutely reels everyone around him in. 

After lunch they take a walk along the beach. Johnny keeps getting distracted every time he notices Gheorghe’s hand brush up against his. He wonders what it would feel like to reach out his fingers just a little to be able to hold his hand. 

They end up walking far enough that they are out of sight of any other couples who were brave enough to face the crisp winter air to walk on the beach. As they vanish around the rocks at the end of the beach Johnny can feel his heart rate begin to pick up. He feels like a school kid hoping to sneak a quick kiss before getting caught.

Gheorghe sits on one of the rock outcroppings that looks out over the lapping ocean waves, and he pats the space next to him for Johnny to sit too. The spot is so small. If Johnny sits they’ll be pressed up together from knee to shoulder. He’ll be able to smell the cologne Gheorghe is wearing, feel his hair tickle the side of his face as it blows in the wind, and feel the inexplicable warmth Gheorghe seems to have even in this winter weather. They’ll be so close together if Johnny sits. Johnny sits. 

They are quiet for a moment, just taking in the strength and silence of the ocean. “It is beautiful, no?” Gheorghe finally asks, quietly as though loath to break the silence of this moment. 

“Yeah. I never come out here anymore. I used to as a kid. I always loved the ocean and the way it moved, and I dreamed that I would be a pirate one day. It’s daft, I know, but I would always come up here with--” Johnny cuts himself off. 

“With who?” Gheorghe asks. He doesn’t mean any harm by it, he’s just curious, but it makes Johnny’s throat close up with unshed tears and everything he’s forced down. 

“With my mom,” Johnny finally whispers. He can still see the sun dress she used to wear when she took Johnny out to play in the waves. Martin always ranted and raged about the summer excursions because they took Johnny away from training, but his mom always waved Martin away, determined that Johnny would have some fun sometime. That was before she left though. Before she decided that Martin when he was playing football was insufferable to be with, but Martin without playing was pure torture. Torture enough that she had to just vanish into the night sans Johnny. He wonders if she ever watches him play now, and if she’s sad he became a football player instead of running off to be a pirate or something equally ridiculous. 

Johnny’s quiet enough in his ruminations that Gheorghe finally says, “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“S’all right. I don’t mind telling you for some reason,” Johnny says, so uncharacteristically truthful.

Gheorghe regards him with a long look after that, like he is sizing Johnny up or something. “You should know,” he says haltingly, “you should know that I asked Matteo for your number because I was intrigued by you.”

“Yeah? Intrigued by the idiot that cracked open your head?”

“No. Intrigued because I thought you were beautiful too. It is ok if that is not why you said yes to coming out with me.”

The confession damn near stops his heart, and Johnny can’t even bear to look at Gheorghe in case this is all one long joke. Beautiful? Fuck. When was the last time someone called Johnny beautiful and meant it? Johnny thinks he might cry for one ludacris moment. He feels all a flutter in his chest, and his breathing gets tight like he’s just finished running sprints. If he looks up at Gheorghe and this is a prank Johnny is going to die right here on the spot. His palms get sweaty. Beautiful? Gheorghe thinks he’s beautiful? Johnny has to look up to see if he’s serious. 

Gheorghe is staring right at him, eyes determined and holding Johnny’s gaze. Johnny can’t see any evidence that this is a joke. He meant it. He fucking meant it. 

Johnny kisses him. 

Gheorghe’s mouth is surprised and slack under Johnny’s for a second and Johnny almost pulls back right away and curses himself for being so stupid. And then Gheorghe comes to light under Johnny’s hands and kisses him back with a determination and skill that is on par to everything else Gheorghe does. He licks his way into Johnny’s mouth and nips at his bottom lip as Johnny pushes back against Gheorghe and gives as good as he gets. Gheorghe’s big, calloused hands run patterns down Johnny’s arms and around his back that make Johnny shiver and push even closer to Gheorghe until he’s damn near sitting in his lap. Johnny pulls at Gheorghe’s hair illicing a groan from deep in Gheorghe’s throat, which makes Johnny smirk and preen. 

For the first time in forever, all the voices in Johnny’s head are quiet. 

The kiss for an eternity and no time at all. When Gheorghe finally pulls away Johnny whines at the lost contact which makes Gheorghe laugh at him.

“You are very cute Johnny, but freezing cold.”

Johnny only then notices that he is shivering, and rubs his cold hands along his arms trying to warm up. Gheorghe laughs again and unzips his jacket and pulls off his sweater underneath revealing the t-shirt Gheorghe was wearing and his toned, tanned arms that make Johnny’s mouth go dry. Gheorghe pulls the sweater onto Johnny and helps rub his arms to warm them up. He then tucks Johnny tightly against him. Johnny buries his cold nose to Gheorghe’s neck which makes Gheorghe flinch slightly, but then he relaxes into Johnny. They sit there for a while just basking in each other's presence.

Johnny could have sat there forever. No football, no Martin, no responsibility. Just him and a handsome boy he can touch without shame. 

When the sun starts to go down and lights a fire over the ocean, Gheorghe finally stands up and shakes feeling back into his legs. He extends his hand to Johnny and helps haul him up. Gheorghe walks him all the way back to his car like the gentleman he is. When they finally reach the restaurant’s parking lot Johnny starts to get nervous. 

“I’ll see you again right?” He asks, biting against the inside of his mouth. 

Gheorghe reaches his hand out to cup Johnny’s jaw, effectively stopping him from worrying a hole right through his cheek. “Of course you will,” he says with that perfect smile. 

“Ok, good,” Johnny says. And then before he can stop himself Johnny stands up on his tip toes to give Gheorghe a quick peck on his stubbly chin, and then Johnny quickly flees into his car before he can feel the full embarrassment of his actions. As he drives away, Johnny catches Gheorghe with a goofy, daydreaming smile on his face and feels a little sliver of pride. Johnny put that smile on his face. It is a little scary to realize that Johnny can’t wait to see Gheorghe again. 

Johnny doesn’t realize until he’s halfway home that he still has Gheorghe’s sweater on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for using 'queer' as a slur.

Johnny has had to spend his entire professional and amateur football career listening to teammates wax poetry about new girlfriends and be grossly in that new stage of dating. He has, for the life of him, never understood it up until now. Sometimes he’s completely focused on practice and then all of the sudden he realizes he’s thinking about the way Gheorghe’s mouth looks, and how his eyes smile, and how good he smells, and he misses a perfect pass or trips over his own two feet. 

He definitely isn’t getting away with this distracted playing either. His coach asks him three times if he feels alright after the concussion, and he even gets sent to the trainer to get reevaluated just in case. Johnny is so embarrassed and blushing after that that he immediately gets called out on the real problem. 

“Johnny-boy isn’t concussed, coach,” Marcelo crows after they come back to the field, “He’s just met someone!”

“He’s love sick,” Davo adds laughing as Johnny gets somehow even more flustered. 

Everyone by then joins in on the friendly ribbing. They ask him where he’s met this new girl, and what she looks like, and what her name is. Johnny is thankful for his hard exterior because he is able to get away with silently glaring at his team as they interrogate him for information. Surprisingly, it is Matteo that finally steps in to disperse the rowdy crowd out for blood at Johnny’s expense. 

“Thanks,” Johnny says to Matteo after everything’s calmed down. 

“It is no worries, Johnny,” Matteo says seriously, “I hope this person, whoever it is, is good for you. It is nice to see you so happy for once.”

Matteo flashes him another enthusiastic thumbs up and hustles away to join the other forwards in a finishing drill. Now that Matteo has said it Johnny can’t help but notice that he is happy. He’s goofy and carefree with the team for once and actually accepts offers to go out for a drink every now and then. It’s good. It’s really fucking good.

-

Gheorghe texts Johnny often. It’s giving Johnny a Pavlovian response to hearing his phone chime. Every buzz and notification sends Johnny diving for his phone to see what Gheorghe might have said, a little smile on his face before he even sees the screen. It’s strange, but a nice strange. He really likes Gheorghe. 

He’s probably going to fuck this up. 

-

After Gheorghe and him settle into some sort of a routine, Johnny figures out how to reel in his sloppy play and is able to focus on football again. There’s less mystery, less newness to it, after a few weeks of a constant stream of text messages and two incognito dates. 

Since Gheorghe took him out for their first date, Johnny takes them out on their next one. There’s this little hike near the Saxby house that’s unknown and unused, and the perfect place for the two of them to go. 

Gheorghe meets him at the trailhead in a sensible winter jacket, nice hiking boots, and the cutest and dorkiest hat. Johnny is unsensibly dressed in a lightweight bomber jacket and his nicest pair of jeans, so he ends up freezing, but looks good doing it. 

Gheorghe is so fond as he rolls his eyes at Johnny shivering that it makes Johnny’s heart skip a beat. He winds up giving Johnny the hat instead and it smells so strongly of the shampoo Gheorghe wears that the whole excursion is a win for Johnnie. 

“You are a freak for wearing that in this weather,” Gheorghe admonishes him.

“You’re a freak,” Johnny childishly retorts as Gheorghe pulls the hat down snug over his ears to warm him up. It makes Gheorghe laugh. 

“You can’t steal that though,” Gheorghe warns him, “I like you in my clothes, but my grandmother knitted that, so I can’t give it to you.”

Johnny’s as windswept and flushed as possible from the cold, but the hint that Gheorghe remembers the sweater Johnny borrowed- stole- and that he likes Johnny in his clothes makes him glow a little redder. 

The hike starts amiable. They walk alongside each other laughing at stories from practice the other day that Johnny recounts and listening in wonder as Gheorghe describes the mountains back in Romania. It’s a perfect day, except Johnny’s hands are cold. and he’s been staring at Gheorghe’s hand that dangles so close to his. They never did hold hands out on that beach, and they should be secluded enough out here to risk it. 

Gheorghe finished up his ramblings about the family business of cheese making and seems to realize that Johnny is a little distracted. As he cocks his hand at Johnny trying to suss out what could be going on in his head, Johnny feels a surge of bravery and reaches out to tangle his fingers with Gheorghe. 

It startles Gheorghe a little, but when he looks down at their clasped hands it’s his turn to flush. He doesn’t pull away. Instead Gheorghe tightens their hands together, and they keep walking to the top of the little hill the trail winds up. They take in the rolling green pastures that spread out below them, the different plants creating a mosaic of different square patterns stitched together into a beautiful quilt below them. 

Gheorghe was right. It is beautiful here. Johnny’s just never had his eyes open to see it. 

While they’re standing there Gheorghe wraps an arm around Johnny’s shoulders and pulls him in close, just like he did when they sat at that beach. He plants a little kiss on the top of Johnny’s head which sends a wave of warmth crashing down through Johnny. 

Everything Johnny does with Gheorghe makes him feel like a kid again. Like he’s fumbling through his first relationship, unsure at every move but ecstatic at every touch, at every moment of reciprocity. Johnny feels seen. Feels pried open and inspected, so achingly vulnerable at every turn. But instead of seeing the rotting parts inside and abandoning the work in progress that Johnny is constantly in, Gheorghe sticks around and puts him back together. He hopes that Gheorghe feels half as happy as Johnny does in this weird relationship they’ve built in secret. 

-

They’re third date is really just a continuation of the second one if Johnny’s being honest. After they come down from the mountain Johnny takes a moment to press Gheorghe against the passenger door of his car and thoroughly make out with him. 

Johnny has his cold fingers shoved up the back of Gheorghe’s jacket when Gheorghe pulls away and says “come back to my place with me. Let me make you dinner.”

And what else can Johnny say to that but a “yes” pressed against Gheorghe’s lips. 

Gheorghe’s flat is as cozy as he is. It has flood to ceiling overflowing bookshelves and a couch so comfortable that Johnny swears against standing up ever again after sinking into it. The kitchen, though, is the real showstopper of the place. It is disproportionality huge for a studio like this and all state of the art appliances. Apparently Gheorghe can cook. 

“I’ll cook you something fancier next time,” Gheorghe says as he brings over penne alla vodka to where Johnny is still slumped on the couch. “You will just have to give me more time to prepare and I will wow you.”

“This is so good Gheorghe,” Johnny says through a mouthful of pasta. He doesn’t miss the way Gheorghe says next time. Doesn’t miss the thrill at the fact that Gheorghe wants to see him again. 

“Thank you for saying so,” Gheorghe says looking pleased. “I should get some of our cheese for you to try.”

“I’d love that,” Johnny says earnestly shoveling more pasta into his mouth. Gheorghe side eyes him as a glop of pasta rolls off his fork and onto his shirt. Gheorghe sighs at that and leans over to wipe off the mess. 

“Freak,” he says.

“So are you! Too fucking neat over there!”

Their banter then dissolves into a little playful roughhousing that leads to Johnny knocking a glass of water off the table after Gheorghe trails his fingers up his ticklish rib cage. 

They finish dinner after that in companionable silence, so unlike the deafening silence at a Saxby dinner. The Gheorghe puts on one of the games from last weekend, not either of their games of course, and they fill the space with loud laughter and banter as they pick opposite teams to playfully cheer for. 

The game takes forever to end and also ends too soon. At the ref’s final whistle Gheorghe shuts the TV off and suddenly Johnny is overly aware of how alone the two of them are. At some point in the game, Johnny had leaned into Gheorghe who had put his hand down on Johnny’s thigh, and now in the darkened room without the buzz of the TV, Johnny realizes he’s running circles in his thigh. Softly. Hesitantly. 

Johnny’s breath catches in his throat when he looks up to meet Gheorghe’s eyes, dark and wanting and mirroring his own. He stands and holds his hand out to Gheorghe, who, to his credit, only hesitates a moment before taking Johnny’s hand and standing too. 

They walk to the bedroom softly as though loath to disturb the moment. Suddenly unsure of each other and themselves. Gheorghe is still staring at Johnny every time Johnny looks up. He has such unbidden desire in his eyes. It’s overwhelming. 

And then suddenly Johnny can’t take it anymore and the dam breaks. He nearly tackled Gheorghe to the bed. What was once careful and tender touches turn into something frantic and needy. Anything to not have to take the full force of Gheorghe’s want for him. Johnny can’t handle taking that much of what he does not deserve. 

It becomes a whirlwind of demanding hands and mouths and sometimes even teeth. Johnny tugs at Gheorghe’s shirt, fumbling to try to get him out of it to reveal the miles of tanned skin he’s been hiding. Johnny feels so desperate for it. But when Gheorghe moves to grab Johnny’s shirt, Johnny shrugs back a little. His past hookups were always quick and dirty, no affection and certainly not a chance to be able to see Johnny. His moment of uncertainty makes Gheorghe pause and lean up to kiss Johnny, but that makes him pull back further. No one’s ever kissed Johnny while fucking him. Kissing while fucking is too close to making love. 

They’ve stopped now. Gheorghe looking at Johnny and Johnny not meeting his eyes, both a little out of breath. Fuck, Johnny’s such a fuck up. They’ve already kissed before. Why is he doing this now? Johnny takes a deep, shuddering breath and feels so jittery and out of sorts. 

Gheorghe takes his hand gently, like he’s afraid to spook Johnny. Like Johnny’s a Tom cat he’s trying to coax somewhere safe. Gheorghe so delicately brings Johnny’s palm to his mouth and places a light kiss on it, then he runs his knuckles across the side of Johnny’s face. Johnny leans into it. Gheorghe stands then. Pulls his sweater and t-shirt off so slowly. God he’s beautiful. He then comes back to Johnny and crowds him until he’s pressed to the head board of the bed. Just as slowly, he pulls Johnny’s shirt over his head, and then he stops. Waits for Johnny to make the next move. He’s so patient with him. 

Johnny looks at Gheorghe again. Feels himself getting hot again. Fuck. He wants this. He wants this. He wants this. He could deserve this. 

Johnny takes the jump and leans in to kiss Gheorghe. He takes his face in his hands, trying to be as sweet as Gheorghe is, and kisses him with intention and desire. Gheorghe responds perfectly. They both come alive again. It’s less frantic and crazed this time, and more purposeful exploring. They take the time to learn each other’s bodies, how they both tick. 

Johnny nearly flies out of his skin when Gheorghe gets his mouth around him, and Gheorghe makes such pretty sounds when he returns the favor. Johnny thinks he’s floating by the time they both settle, content and satisfied and curled up together so tightly that they disappear into one another. Gheorghe is lovely when he’s drowsy with sleep, and he refuses to let Johnny leave, insisting he spend the night after. 

As he’s laying there, Johnny wonders if this is what love might feel like. 

-

Johnny plays his best game on Saturday. Everything he does is spot on the whole game. He puts in two assists in the first half, and scores in the second half. He’s absolutely high off the win and the adrenaline of the game. 

The locker room is thrumming with the energy of a team on fire, and there are whoops and shouts that for once Johnny joins in on. 

When he checks his phones there’s a text from Gheorghe asking if he wants to meet for a drink to celebrate Johnny’s win, and Johnny doesn’t even think twice before accepting.

-

They meet in a little pub outside of town. It’s just dark enough to pull off the anonymous look, and Johnny and Gheorghe sit comfortably together at one of the old booths in the back corner. 

It’s a jovial meal. Gheorghe’s team had just won the night before, and now with Johnny’s win to match it, they both have something to celebrate. It’s also been two months since they’ve started this little thing of theirs, not that Johnny’s counting or anything, but it is the longest he’s ever seen someone steadily. 

So Gheorghe probably doesn’t consider this an anniversary dinner (that would be crazy, they aren’t even officially dating Johnny’s pretty sure. They’ve never said it or anything), but deep down Johnny might consider it. 

Johnny’s in such a good mood in this little pub that he breaks his diet, and even convinces Gheorghe to follow suit. They get fish and chips and a massive fucking burger to share, and Gheorghe licks sauce off his lips so purposefully that it sends a thrum of arousal through Johnny. If they weren’t in public he’d kiss the mess off of Gheorghe himself, but instead Johnny sits on his hands to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. 

Gheorghe must catch the way Johnny is staring at him though because he suddenly grins wicked and knowingly. “Freak,” he whispers in Johnny’s ear. It makes him blush scarlet.

Gheorghe is still leaning in overtly close to Johnny’s space, telling him about an annoying player on the team they just played when someone shouts from across the pump. 

“Johnny! Ay Johnny! That you!”

Johnny jumps back from where he was staring at Gheorghe’s mouth in horror and looks around for the culprit shouting his name. He can only stare aghast as three of his teammates, Marcelo, Davo, and Matteo, cut through the pub directly to the table Johnny and Gheorghe are occupying. 

Johnny thinks he’s going to throw up. 

As they reach the table, the three of them finally seem to take notice as to who he’s sitting with, and pull back completely shocked. Gheorghe looks up at Johnny. Johnny can’t look at him. This was supposed to be a good night. 

“What the fuck Johnny!” Davo finally yells, “Why the fuck you curled up with someone else’s defender?”

Johnny pulls his legs in tight to himself so no part of him is touching Gheorghe anymore. He mourns the loss. He knows Gheorghe is still looking at him, urging him to do something, but Johnny can’t find any words to say to make this better. To make this scene salvageable. 

“Yeah what the fuck,” Marcelo chimes in, and leans closer to Johnny like he’s trying to tell him a secret, “haven’t you heard the rumors Johnny? Can’t be letting the likes of him anywhere near us.”

Marcelo and Davo laugh sharp and mean at that, and start trading more barbed jokes about Gheorghe, about his team. Gheorghe is still looking at Johnny, and Johnny still can’t bring himself to say anything. To be associated with Gheorghe. He might actually throw up.

“Jesus, stop it you two,” Matteo finally cuts in eyeing Johnny hard, “I introduced the two after the cracked heads. I played with Gheorghe in Italy, you know that. I thought they’d get along.” Matteo pauses nervously for a second still looking strangely at Johnny. “They seemed very similar.”

Marcelo and Davo sober up at that announcement looking a little guilty. They can cross a boundary when heckling rival teams and players, but they would never intentionally be mean to a teammates friend. “Nice of you to find Johnny a playdate then Matteo,” Marcelo quickly defects, “Might be a good change of pace for you, ay Johnny?”

“Yeah,” Johnny croaks out, the first things he’s said this whole time. He finally chances a glance at Gheorghe who looks-- angry? Disappointed? Something that makes Johnny’s throat close up tight. When Johnny doesn’t say anything further, doesn’t make a move to admonish either of his teammates or stick up for Gheorghe, Gheorghe closes his eyes tight and clenches his jaw.

He stands then, and says, “I think I will be going.”

“Aw I wanted to catched up, Gheorghe!” Matteo says with too much enthusiasm. Marcelo though has already dropped into the seat Gheorghe vacated, a very clear ‘good riddance’ that Johnny doesn’t correct. If possible Gheorghe clenches his jaw even harder looking furious and tired with Johnny all at once. 

“No. I should go. Goodbye Matteo, it was nice to see you.” And with that, Gheorghe sweeps out of the pub without so much as a backwards glance to Johnny. 

“Sorry to wreck your little meet and greet,” Davo says to Johnny without a hint of apology anywhere in his face. He steals some of the chips Johnny still has, and waves a waitress over to get a round of beers for everyone. God Johnny’s already fucked his meal plan for today with Gheorghe, might as well continue on that path. He drinks the beer Davo gets him. And the next, and the next. He drinks until the humiliation and despair that had settled in his gut vanishes into his cup. 

Matteo drives him home that night. Walks him up to the door and bites his nails once they get there looking as awkward as Johnny had felt most of the night with the boys. 

“You’re alright, right Johnny?” He finally asks.

“I’m fine Matteo, don’t know what you’re on about,” Johnny says with barely a slur. 

“It’s just-- I just--,” Matteo stutters out, “I’m just sorry for interrupting,” he finally settles on.

A cold spike shoots through Johnny. “What would you have been interrupting?” He demands, egging Matteo on to say something. 

Matteo takes one look at Johnny and immediately backs down. “Sleep well, Johnny,” he says, and then leaves Johnny standing like an idiot on his front porch. 

Johnny slowly makes his way up to his room, brushing off a worried nan who takes one whiff of him and shakes her head in disappointment. He feels strung out and sick by the time he gets to bed, and can’t resist checking his phone pathetically to see if Gheorghe has said anything. He hasn’t. It takes Johnny ages to fall asleep. 

-

After two days of wallowing Johnny finally can’t take the radio silence anymore and simply texts Gheorghe:

I’m sorry.

He doesn’t hear anything back from him. Johnny’s never been good at this talking shit. It’s why he shouldn’t be in a relationship. Were they even in a relationship? Are they still in a relationship? If Johnny was someone people wanted to or should date he would probably know the answer to these questions.

At least he got away with whatever he had with Gheorghe without anyone finding out. Or at least he thought he did. 

-

Matteo for the last few days since the pub catastrophe had been seemingly avoiding Johnny. He hadn’t talked to him during practices, and every time they were together in the locker room, Matteo always seemed to be rushing off to shower or do something else that took him away from Johnny. It was odd. 

But then, four days after the pub incident, Johnny’s sitting in the locker room alone having stayed behind to get in some extra crossing practice, when he feels someone staring at him. He looks up to see Matteo loitering in the entryway with that same nervous energy he had when he had dropped Johnny off at his door.

“Hi Johnny,” he says quietly. 

“Hello Matteo,” Johnny answers exceedingly puzzled at his behavior. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” he asks.

Johnny hears every alarm bell go off in his head at that question, but still says, “yeah.”

Matteo comes to sit next to him at their lockers and is quiet for a minute, working through all of the words he seems to want to say to Johnny. 

“I don’t know how to ask you this,” he finally says. 

“Just fucking ask it,” Johnny growls getting annoyed with this mystery dragging out. 

“Ok,” Matteo takes a deep breath, “Were you and Gheorghe on a date?”

Johnny almost passes out on the spot at that question. How the fuck could he know? How the absolute fuck could he know? He’s been so fucking careful. Did Gheorghe tell him? Why would Gheorghe fucking tell him? All Johnny can hear in his head right now is a shrieking panicked noise and the constant mantra of “someone knows, someone knows, someone knows.”

“I just,” Matteo continues unaware of the storm crashing through Johnny’s head, “I know about Gheorghe from our time in Italy and I always wondered about--”

“Always wondered about what?” Johnny cuts him off suddenly white hot angry. “Always wondered what?!” Johnny’s essentially shouting now. He stands up and pulls himself away from Matteo who has his hands out trying to get Johnny to calm down. 

“Always wonder if I was some fucking queer?” Johnny demands throwing his hands up,” well I’m not one of those, you asshole.”

“Ok, ok!” Matteo says standing up too. “I just— I just wouldn’t care if you are alright?” 

“I’m not though. I’m not. I’m a football player alright? Jesus,” Johnny says, but he can feel the sudden fury he had draining out now. He looks back to Matteo and meets his eyes, “I’m a football player. Can’t be fucking queer too.”

Matteo looks so sad for him. So fucking pitying, and Johnny can’t take that, so he storms out leaving Matteo standing there alone. 

-

When he gets back to his room Johnny checks his phone. He has a fucking text from Gheorghe, and he quickly opens his phone to read it. 

I am sorry too. I was mad about the way you were around your teammates, but I understand. You don’t want anyone to know. 

Johnny stares at that phrase “you don't” for too long. Does Gheorghe want people to know? Is that why Matteo knows? Did Gheorghe fucking tell him? Johnny’s been so careful for so long why is he falling apart now. 

He doesn’t answer Gheorghe’s text. He thinks he should be mad at what Gheorghe has done to him, but he can’t muster up the energy. He feels nothing. Numb. He cheats on his diet again and drinks until he passes out and pretends he can’t feel nan staring daggers into the back of his head as he throws it all back up the next morning. 

Johnny goes to practice in a fog the next few days. He does everything he's supposed to and says all the right things, but he’s running on autopilot. He ignores Matteo. He ignores Gheorghe too who keeps trying to text him. 

Are you ignoring me now too? 

Why don’t we go out for lunch again? Go back to the beach. 

We can start over yes?

This is immature. 

Matteo told me he talked to you. Are you angry about that?

I will not apologize for what Matteo has said. It is not a lie. 

You’re a fucking coward. 

Fuck you. 

Johnny stared at that last text for days. Why did Johnny ever think he could manage this. A real relationship with a beautiful guy and the chance to keep playing football. It was too much to ask. Too much of a good thing for Johnny to have. 

Johnny goes back to eating with Martin and nan again. There are no more meals with Gheorghe anymore, no chance to get to try his family’s cheese. It’s what he has to do, and if being berated by Martin over bland pasta is his punishment so be it. 

-

Johnny wallows while not talking to Gheorghe. He hadn’t realized how absolutely glued to his he had been with Gheorghe and him texting everyday until that had been ripped away. Well not ripped away. Abandoned by Johnny. 

Later in the week, there’s this award show that Johnny gets invited to. He’s not going to win anything, but David, their forward, might, so the team goes in support. Johnny knows Gheorghe is going to be there, and he frets over it for hours. 

The night of the party is finally one of the first warm nights as Spring creeps up slowly on all of them. Johnny and his team arrive all around the same time and take their seats next to each other. These award shows always drag. Speech after fucking boring speech, and then they all have to sit and watch rival players get praised and teammates get snubbed. It’s at best boring and at worst outright aggravating. Thank god Johnny has Tomas next to him; he’s easy to talk to but not overly talkative like some of the others. 

There’s an after party once all the awards are given out— David doesn’t win, but it was a long shot for him anyway. Marcelo is actually able to talk Johnny into going to the party with the lure of being able to get drunk on an open bar. 

The party is in full swing by the time Johnny and his team arrive. There are tons of teams and players all mingling about, and lots of outside people, including stunning girls that get invited by players hoping to score. It makes Johnny tired. He’s going to have to put on such a show tonight. 

And then, Johnny finally spots Gheorghe. He could pretend that he hadn’t been searching for him all night but that would be an outright lie. Now that Johnny sees him though, he can’t believe he ever missed him. Gheorghe looks impeccable tonight, so fucking handsome and suave in an expensive navy suit. Gheorghe looks up then and meets Johnny’s eyes from across the crowded room, and it’s like time and noise stop. He misses him. He fucking misses him. 

But then Gheorghe’s eyes narrow and he turns back to the conversation with his team. Johnny knows he shouldn’t want Gheorghe like this. He was the one who stopped responding anyway. He knows he was the one who decided between Gheorghe and football and made his decision. Fuck though. If Gheorghe beckoned Johnny over with just a crook of his finger Johnny would to him without a fight. But Gheorghe has clearly dismissed Johnny for the night, for forever actually Johnny supposes. So Johnny does the next logical thing, he gets drunk. 

He’s eight shots in when Marcelo and Davo find him. 

“Come meet the girls Johnny!” Marcelo cries each hand around the waist of a pretty and tipsy blonde. 

“I’m good Marcelo,” Johnny says trying to dismiss him. 

“Nonsense!” Davo yells equally as drunk and all but deposits one of the girls hanging onto him into Johnny’s lap. 

“Hi,” she says bright and bubbly, “you’re so cute.”

“Thanks,” Johnny says, trying to extricate himself out from under her. 

“Let me get you a drink first,” she says pouting as she tries to keep Johnny from leaving. 

Johnny bites his lip and considers his options. He’s already on thin ice with Marcelo and Davo catching him with Gheorghe; can he really deny a beautiful girl like this and not raise any more suspicions?

“Alright, one drink.”

But as with all times Johnny is drunk, one drink turns into two turns into five and suddenly the girl has Johnny out with the other dancers pressed sultrily up against him. 

She leers up at him and says, “I’ve been thinking about this all night.” And then suddenly Johnny has a mouthful of this girl. She kisses him forcefully and sloppily and Johnny pushes her away from him 

“What the fuck?” She demands as she stumbles back on her heels. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Her loud voice draws the attention of those nearby. People turning to see Johnny refuse this girl making bold moves on him. Scared out of his mind of somehow being caught and too drunk to think straight Johnny kisses her back just as hard. The crowd settles again.   
The dance for what seems like hours, and she keeps pulling Johnny in to kiss her. She’s all over him, and Johnny returns the favor with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. 

When the girl disappears to the bathroom with her friends Johnny makes a hasty exit out the side door. He leans against the wall outside in the alley and takes in lungfuls of fresh air trying to calm himself down. It’s only after a deep breathing exercise that he then realizes he isn’t alone. He turns to see none other than fucking Gheorghe standing there staring at him wide eyed and furious. Fuck. He looks good even in righteous indignation. 

He also looks like he’s been crying. Eyes red and his hair ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it. Johnny hadn’t seen him since the girl took him captive. He must have seen them though. 

Finally, Gheorghe makes the first move. He stomps over to Johnny, and grabs him by the collar. 

“Fuck you,” he hisses. Then he lets Johnny go and storms back in to return to the party. Johnny, like always, just watches him go, hollowed out and exhausted. He can’t keep doing this. 

Johnny goes home. Fuck what anyone else is going to think about that.


	3. Chapter 3

Johnny is completely out of sorts going into their next game. His mind is in a thousand different places and there’s a gaping, aching wound in his chest where Gheorghe’s smile once sat. Johnny would do anything to stop missing him. 

Johnny is so out of it that he misses the opening whistle, and jumps when he hears Tomas scream at him from the goal to move. It takes him too long to find the ball, and once he does, he doesn’t do anything impressive with it. 

He shanks a pass up to Matteo, and nearly takes David out with a horrible free kick. It’s like nothing Johnny does ever goes right. He puts in bad tackles on defense and seems to have a knack at being totally out of place this game. The harder Johnny tries to be better, the worse it seems to be. 

In the 60th minute, Johnny misses a wide open shot, and that’s finally the last straw for his coach who very unceremoniously pulls him out after that. Johnny sits heavily on the bench feeling worse when those around him try to pat his back or cheer him up. He’s never cried at a game, but this is the closest he’s ever been. 

But even after all of that shit playing, and the knowledge that he’s being ripped to shred by the announcers and fans back home, the one thing that’s making Johnny feel even worse is Gheorghe. Fucking Gheorghe. If Johnny knew he was going home to him maybe this feeling wouldn’t be so awful. Maybe he could finally stop feeling like he’s being eaten up inside by this creeping darkness that sprouted when his mom left them. 

He’s never wanted anyone in his life like this. Never felt happiness like this with anyone. Never felt such sadness in his life because of someone. He needs to apologize to Gheorghe. Needs to get him back. 

-

He texts Gheorghe after the game. 

I need to talk to you.

He doesn’t respond. Johnny bites the inside of his mouth bloody staring at his phone fucking willing Gheorghe to give any indication that he might still care about him. 

After an hour of waiting Johnny just can’t fucking take it anymore and makes the drive to Gheorghe’s apartment. They’re dinner and the time that Gheorghe so painstakingly pulled Johnny apart feels like forever ago. No one answers when he knocks on the door. He calls Gheorghe to see if he can hear the phone ringing inside but there’s silence. Fuck. Johnny didn’t think about what he’d do if he couldn’t find him. He was ready for fighting and crying, but he doesn’t know if he can handle nothing. 

But then, Johnny has one more thought. One other way he can find Gheorghe. 

It’s late evening when he knocks on Matteo’s door. He’s home though, a beer in his hand and his pajamas on. 

“What’s wrong Johnny?” He asks, looking so worried at Johnny being here, especially in the state he’s in. 

Johnny’s shaking with nerves and anticipation. He crosses and uncrosses his arms and finally asks, “can I come in” without being able to even look at Matteo. 

Matteo just stares at him for another beat, and then finally and silently opens the door wider so Johnny can come in. Johnny only makes it through the threshold of Matteo’s door though before everything he’s been holding back comes rushing out.

“You were right,” Johnny rambles. “You were fucking right, alright? And God I was so fucking scared that you knew, that it would ruin me, and so I reacted like that and I’m so fucking sorry Matteo. But you were right and I was scared and I—“

“Johnny!” Matteo stops him, absolutely agog at what Johnny is admitting to him. “Why don’t you come in and sit down. You look faint.”

“No, no I can’t sit. I gotta talk to him, Matteo. Please!”

Matteo hesitates. “I don’t know Johnny. He’s angry with you.”

And just that verbal confirmation is a dagger to Johnny’s heart. “I know, I know he is,” Johnny whispers. “But I need to tell him I’m sorry. I need to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I just walked away from this now.”

There must be something achingly truthful in Johnny’s eyes because Matteo finally nods at him. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll tell you. But don’t fuck this up.”

“God I won’t. I won’t.”

-

Matteo gives him an address that’s an hour away. It’s an AirBnB that he says Gheorghe sometimes rents when he feels overwhelmed. 

Johnny runs home first before driving out to see Gheorghe. He’s a mess of nerves and he needs to change and eat something before he finds Gheorghe. Needs to calm down a little or he’ll look like an idiot showing up at his house all crazy. 

Martin and nan are eating dinner when he gets in, and Johnny tries to be as inconspicuous as possible as he grabs a plate for himself and begins to scarf it down. 

“Bad game today,” Martin grunts, scaring the shit out of Johnny. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Johnny mumbles. 

“Oh don’t worry Johnny. Everyone has a bad day,” Nan quickly steps in trying to diffuse the building tension. 

“Well it’s not just a bad fucking day is it?” Martin asks. “You’ve been fucking distracted for weeks.”

“I’ve been fine!” Johnny says, matching Martin’s tone. 

“I’ve seen you! Sneaking out all the time, never home. I called your coach the other day and he says you’ve been in a world on your own!”

“You called my coach!?”

“I was worried! You are a reflection of me, Johnny, and you should take this more seriously!”

“What?” Johnny yells back. “A reflection? Fuck off?”

Martin cuffs him for that taking Johnny aback. “Yes. A fucking reflection of me on that field. If all these problems you’ve been having are about some girl—“

“It’s not a girl.”

“If it’s about a girl—“

“It’s not a girl!”

“IF IT’S—“

“It’s not a girl Da! Jesus fucking Christ I’m gay. I’m gay Da, god! Your goddamn reflection is a fucking queer alright?” Johnny bursts out, and then immediately claps his hand over his mouth. He did not mean to say that. He can’t believe he just said that. Nan looks just as shocked that he admitted it, but Martin looks positively bowled over at the admissions. 

No one says anything. 

“I have to go,” Johnny finally says, cutting through the silence of the room. He all but flees the table to his car. He’s gotta go. He has to find Gheorghe. He’ll deal with his dad later. 

Before he can get out the door though his nan catches him by the arm and surprisingly pulls him into a hug. It totally throws Johnny off balance. 

“You’ll be ok,” she says, “you’ll be ok. You gotta go get him.” And then she lets him leave, and Johnny walks out to his car in a daze. 

-

Going home did not calm Johnny down enough to see Gheorghe. He’s panicked from telling Martin and can’t get over his nan’s seeming support. Fuck. He starts reciting his poem. Pretends this is a game day. He can do this. He has to do this. 

When he gets to the driveway leading up to Gheorghe’s house though, he can’t do it. He can’t get his legs to work because god what if he goes in there and Gheorghe still doesn’t want him? So Johnny sits in his car, in the dark, and stares up at this adorable house Gheorghe rented. He starts to fade fast though. The sleepless nights and crashing from the adrenaline of coming out to Martin are both catching up to him. He has to do this now then, before he fucking passes out. Johnny stands and makes his shaky legs take him all the way up to the door. Johnny breathes in. Then he knocks. 

The minute that passes between knocking and the door swinging up is the slowest one in his life. Johnny’s definitely bleeding from where he worries his teeth into the side of his mouth. But then, the door swings open to reveal Gheorghe in all of his half asleep beauty. 

He cautiously regards Johnny. He doesn’t look angry, just resigned. Johnny isn't sure that’s a good thing. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

“I just,” and now that Johnny is here, he suddenly can’t find the words. “We lost today,” he says instead. “Played like shit, you know.”

“Johnny,” Gheorghe sighs. “You should go home. I need to sleep.” 

Everything in Johnny’s head is screaming to say something to do something, but instead he numbly says, “yeah alright.” Johnny backs away from the door like he’s in a dream. He begins to head back towards his car, but just as he gets there he finally snaps out of it. “No,” he whispers to himself. “Fuck no.”

Johnny charges back up to the door, and opens it, surprising Gheorghe who had just been walking away. 

“No. I’m not fucking leaving,” Johnny declares. “I’m trying to sort this out, I’m trying to tell you this, you know I’m bad at words, but I want to tell you, I need to tell you.”

“What do you want to tell me Johnny?” Gheorghe asks with heavy trepidation. 

“I came all this way up here, came out to Matteo, and my own fucking father because I want to be us again. You are all I think about now, and I just can’t-- I just can’t fucking walk away from this like I’ve walked away from everything else. It means too much to me”

Gheorghe begins to shake his head looking like he is going to interrupt, but Johnny charges on. 

“I want to be together again. I want this. I-- I don’t want to be a fuck up anymore. I don’t want to be a fuck up. I don’t want to be alone anymore. I don’t want to be like Martin fucking alone and ruined. I want this. I want us. More than anything I’ve ever had, more than football even. I want us. I want to get better for us. I will get better for us.”

Gheorghe tries to reach out to touch Johnny, who only now realizes he’s shaking like a leaf. But Johnny pulls back. If Gheorghe touches him he’ll just start sobbing. 

Johnny swallows hard. “I want to be with you. Fuck everything else, I want to be with you. And that’s what I came here to say.”

They’re quiet after that speech. The weight of Johnny’s words settles heavy over the small space, and then Gheorghe’s mouth curls up into that smile Johnny loves so much. 

“You’re a freak,” he whispers. 

Johnny laughs and cries all at once. “So are you.”

And then Gheorghe leans in to kiss him, as soft and sweet as their first kiss on that beach so long ago. It is everything Johnny has been wanting, has ever wanted. They don’t do much more than kiss. Both of them just savoring the feeling of being close again. 

“Let’s go to bed. You must be exhausted,” Gheorghe finally says when he pulls away from Johnny. 

“Alright, yeah,” Johnny mumbles, finally feeling the weariness of the day hit him like a brick wall. 

Gheorghe takes him back to the bed and lays down, pulling Johnny tight into his arms. Johnny curls up with his nose buried deep in Gheorghe’s neck, taking in the scent of him, and basking in the warmth of his arms. 

It feels like coming home. 

They’re going to be ok. Johnny’s going to be ok.


	4. Epilogue

When Johnny comes back home after spending the next two days camped out with Gheorghe in that AirBnB he mentally prepares himself for what Martin is going to say. He nearly makes himself sick with worry on the drive there, and even though Gheorghe offers to come with him as a support system, Johnny waves him off. He has to do this himself. 

When he gets to his house, everything is deadly silent. He tip toes slowly to the living room where Martin is usually camped out, like if he makes any sounds at all it will make the whole situation worse. Martin stands up out of his chair immediately when he notices Johnny slink in, and they both just stare at each other. 

Then Martin says, “you went off to see some boy?”

“Yeah,” Johnny croaks out. Fuck. He’s going to throw up. 

But then Martin asks, “He good to you?”

Puzzled Johnny honestly replies, “Yeah, he’s good to me. Better than I deserve.”

Martin waves that sentiment off. “He play?”

“Yeah.”

“For your team.”

“No for someone else in the league.”

Martin rubs his chin at that and ponders it for a second. “Well he better fucking cheer for you and never fucking expect me to cheer for his team.”

“I think we can manage that,” Johnny says amazed at how calm his dad is. 

“Well,” Martin says, “I want to meet him. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

Johnny almost drops to his knees in relief. He had always in the back of his mind prepared for the day he’d get thrown out of this house. His dad was an old school footballer, and Johnny never once thought he’d be able to see past that ignorance to accept him. But he did. He fucking did. Gheorghe can come around the house now. Johnny might actually faint. 

-

They don’t tell too many other people about their relationship. Football is still a sport stuck firmly in the dark ages, but they are able to tell their closest friends and Gheorghe’s family. Matteo, three players on Gheorghe’s team, and surprisingly enough Tomas and Marcelo who catch them making out in the bathroom at an award show a few months later all wind up knowing. Johnny had honestly thought Marcelo was going to pass out when he saw them, but he took the news decently well. Tomas took it a little too well and now keeps trying to helpfully remind Johnny that he’s a steadfast ally. It’s sweet really. 

They eventually move in together into a beautiful one room apartment. The only good thing about being rival teams in a small country is that they can get away living together and still be close enough to both of their practice stadiums. It is a dream come true living with Gheorghe. Johnny has free reign to steal all of his sweaters and shove his freezing cold toes under Gheorghe’s warm thighs. Gheorghe cooks most nights, and Johnny even gets to try the famous family cheese. It’s just as good as he imagined.

Their relationship isn’t totally smooth sailing from then on. They have tough nights after hard losses, and the days that their teams play each other are almost excruciating. But no matter the challenges, Johnny wouldn’t trade the gift of coming home to Gheorghe every night for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! Finished it up! Longest fic and first multi chapter one, but it was fun! If you read this far I love you, and if you leave a comment I'll love you even more!

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a multi chapter story but I guess we shall see! I'm mostly posting this now so I'll have the motivation to finish the rest of the story lolol. Thank you to everyone who read this, and if you leave a comment I will adore you forever! I wanna say that I'll post the next chapter within the week but truly we shall see.


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